


Descendant of Israphel

by PyriteAndChaos



Category: The Yogscast, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: (it’s not super obvious in this fic but he does), Libraries, Ranboo has ADHD, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Reflection, cuz big mood, minor identity crisis, self discovery, you ever just hyperfixate on a series of mysterious books with no author?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:29:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29119005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyriteAndChaos/pseuds/PyriteAndChaos
Summary: He paused in his pacing.There was a library in the SMP.In fact, there were two! But Niki’s was incomplete and probably wouldn’t help much at the moment. Karl’s, on the other hand, might just have the answers he’s looking for! He’s heard small tidbits about it, about its large and varied selection of both history and fiction books. Maybe this library could have something about whatever he is.(Aka: Yogscast and Dream SMP hyperfixations go brrr and I made a Ranboo headcanon with that.Also I wrote this before yesterday’s “Confrontation.” Stream so if anything in here contradicts that...oops)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	Descendant of Israphel

**Author's Note:**

> Before starting, I’d like to say I know next to nothing about Karl's library. In fact, I’m not even 100% sure it actually exists, it might just be popular fanon that I’ve mistaken for canon. So suffice to say I took a few liberties when describing it.
> 
> Also while this fic doesn’t fully explore the Yogscast part of this little crossover idea, I do have plans on writing more fics that delve a little more into that.

Ranboo looked in the mirror, mismatched eyes scanning over every little detail. 

Normally he didn’t think much about his other half. His right half presented enough interest that there was little reason to. 

He took a tired breath and leaned forward, looking even closer at himself. 

His Enderman skin was coarser and thicker than his other half, which was relatively human like, if not for the color. He pulled at his left lip, showing off his teeth. The lips on his ender half formed hardened edges, almost teeth like, and that was not even mentioning the rows of sharp shark-like teeth behind those lips, or the fact that his right jaw could lock on command. That had been an interesting thing to discover. On the other side however, the only real anomaly was his fang-like canines, and even then, many others in the SMP — including the likes of Fundy, Tommy, and Eret — had similar canines. His hands wandered to either of his ears. He had noticed his Ender side seemed to emote purely through his long, hyper-mobile ear. The lack of eyebrows, eye lids, and most lip muscles essentially stoped most normal facial expression in its tracks. Meanwhile, his ear had a large range of motion that seemed entirely dependent on his mood. His left ear, on the other hand, was slightly pointed, but otherwise no more dexterous than a human’s. And that half of his face moved normally too. 

He sighed and leaned back. 

Recently more and more people had been asking him about his mystery half, either in passing or coming up and demanding answers from him, and it was starting to make him wonder; what _was_ he? He began fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt. Surely he wasn’t the first of his kind. That seemed rather unlikely. His legs moved with out his permission and soon he started to pace the comfort room. He knew what he wasn’t — ghast, demon, some kind of white animal — but he still hadn’t the faintest clue what he _was_. He and his friends had tried so many different tests, but nothing was working. His hand threaded through his hair anxiously. Aimless experimentation was giving him little answers! There had to be another way! Something that could give him answers! Somewhere that had some kind of information on hand-!

He paused in his pacing. 

There was a library in the SMP. 

In fact, there were two! But Niki’s was incomplete and probably wouldn’t help much at the moment. Karl’s, on the other hand, might just have the answers he’s looking for! He’s heard small tidbits about it, about its large and varied selection of both history and fiction books. Maybe this library could have something about whatever he is. 

With a kick to his step, he quickly finished dressing and started making his way to where he’d been told Karl’s library was, with some help from his memory book, hurrying past anyone he came across with little more than a wave. He felt a little bad for being rude, but he was too excited to give it too much thought. 

As he walked into the library, he was completely awestruck. While it wasn’t the biggest build, not by a long shot, it still had a beauty to it that Ranboo greatly appreciated. It had a homely atmosphere that made him feel safe. 

He shook himself out of his slight daze. He had work to do. 

He quickly set out to read through any books he could find about different monsters and creatures. He didn’t bother with common mobs, having long since ruled those out by now, but perhaps lesser known creatures held the answer? So page after page he poured through, taking notes on anything, _anything_ that may be of use to him. 

But, after an hour or so, and a large pile of books, he’d only come up with a hand full of potential options, but none of them really _felt_ right, and there had always been something off about the descriptions, something that wouldn’t match quite right with his left half. He still took note of them, just in case, but he was losing hope of finding any real answers. 

Deciding to take a break, he headed over to the fiction section of the library to see if he could find something more relaxing to read. Nothing really caught his eye at first, some stories seemingly based in the history of the SMP, a few cliche romance novels, and a handful of uninspired looking action novels. Then, he stumbled into the far corner of the fiction section. Many of the lanterns were dimmer, or even completely burnt out, and the books were covered lightly in dust, untouched. 

He picked up the first book he saw and took a look at it. A simple black cover with the image of a mushroom and a pickaxe crossed over each other with the words “The Blackrock Chronicles” printed in big bold lettering stared back at him. There seemed to be no author listed. Having nothing better to read, he took a seat on the ground and began reading. 

He lost himself in the book, in the captivating story of the Enderborn mage and his mushroom loving companion, of their struggle against the men who destroyed their old world, of technology and magic, of love, of loss. It wasn’t long before he finished the book, and found himself hungry for more. He took another off the shelf, another book with no named author, and cracked it open. Book after book he read. He read about a testing facility run by an evil man hellbent on world domination and his dear friend, unaware of the other’s misdeeds. He read about a scientist and his apprentice and their fight to rid themselves of a magical corruption. He read about magic powered by the spilled blood of others, and the people who used it. 

Before he knew it, he had read through too many of the books to count, and the late night chills began to seep through his clothes. He got up to leave, not wanting to over stay his welcome more than he already has, and accidentally bumped into the bookshelf, causing a few of the books to come crashing down. 

Whilst scrambling to pick them up one caught his eye. The cover seemed to depict the two hero’s of the story, a tall alien and a rugged dwarf, two characters he recognized from some of the other books, with what seems to be the antagonist looming over them in the background. What truly stuck out to him, however, was the antagonist’s appearance. Bleach white skin, lips pulled up into a snarl that shows of his sharp canines, pointed ears, and red, menacing eyes. 

Slowly, he picked up the book, and looked it over. Out of all the books he’d read from this section, this was most clearly the oldest. Worn and yellowed pages, cover slightly dented and scuffed up. But it was still in fairly good shape, it didn’t feel like it would fall apart in his hands at the very least. He clutched the book in his hands, careful of the sharp nails on his left hand and the talons on his right. This book cover, this _stupid little book cover_ in a near abandoned part of the _fiction_ section of the library was the closest he’d come to finding what his other half is. How much of this book was likely to be based in reality? The other books from this collection were surely far to fantastical to be real! Then again, the things that have happened in the Dream SMP would probably seem too fantastical to be real to someone outside of it. Maybe there was some truth behind these books. Maybe...

He looked around quickly, finding no one in the library with him. Surely Karl wouldn’t mind if he took this home? It’s a library after all, that’s what it’s for. It’s not like anyone would miss it, if the amount of dust on these books were anything to go off. Quickly, he hid the book away in his inventory, right next to his memory book and the notes he took earlier in the day. Soon enough he was out of the library and on his way back home. 

He could have laughed. It was sad, really. He could see more of himself in what was clearly the villain on the cover of this one book than he’d seen in any of the encyclopedic books he dug through. But still, he hoped that perhaps this “Shadow of Israphel” had the answers he was looking for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
